


Sex Education

by Mr_MINUS32



Series: Minus [17]
Category: Gifted (Movie 2017)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Father Figure, Large Cock, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Porn With Plot, School, Size Difference, Smut, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_MINUS32/pseuds/Mr_MINUS32
Summary: At the end of the week, Mary discovers her uncle Frank masturbating and decides she wants to learn more about it. This sets off a chain of events that will alter the duo's current relationship forever.
Relationships: Frank Adler & Mary Adler, Frank Adler/Mary Adler
Series: Minus [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1314992
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	Sex Education

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Had some help from the sweet editing skills of greendalegiant.

The sun rises over a small house in Central Florida and fills the interior with a golden glow. It's early morning and Frank Adler walks into the kitchen having already been up for over an hour. His scroungy-looking one-eyed cat Fred jumps up onto the table and looks at the man.

"Yeah, yeah, I've got you," he says.

Frank grabs the cat something to eat and watches Fred feed from the bowl. He gives a casual look at his watch and notices the time. They are running late. He sighs as he moves through the house ending up at a closed bedroom door.

"You know you can't stay in there all day,” he said loudly.

"I don't want to. Just long enough to miss school,” a small feminine voice replied.

"I thought you liked your new school"

"...I do."

"So why do you keep hiding every morning? It's been like this for the past week."

"Go away."

"You know I'm not going to do that. Either you come out or I'm coming in."

Frank waits a bit and then the door opens. Mary Adler stands in the door ways, cute pouting face glaring up at her uncle.

"What's wrong?" 

"I don't want to go to school today."

"You say that all the time."

"So why don't you listen?"

Frank chuckles but Mary isn't amused.

"You're going to school Mary."

Noticing that her pouting is not making much of a difference to him, Mary stomps past Frank. She sits down at the table as a nice big plate of pancakes is placed before her.

"What if I tripped and fell and hurt my foot,” she whines.

"Then I'd carry you,” he replies in a nonchalant tone.

"...What if you tripped and fell and hurt your foot?"

"Then Roberta would carry you."

"...What if I were sick?"

"...Okay. If you were sick, then you could stay home..."

Frank finishes his glass of orange juice and glides past Mary, kissing her on the forehead as he passes by. He turns to her and says, "But you're not sick. I'll see you in the truck."

Mary begins pouting again and drops her face down toward her half-eaten food. A few minutes later, she enters Frank's truck where he is already waiting and sits in the passenger seat. Frank looks at her as she buckles herself in.

"You gonna tell me why you don't want to go to school?" he asks.

"I just don't want to go,” she replies with exasperation.

"Uh huh. Okay."

Frank turns the key as the truck’s engine revs up to a roar. As they head towards Mary’s school, she spends nearly the entire time staring out the window. After being dropped off at her grade school, she spends the rest of the day in a distracted haze. Still not wanting to be at school, Mary just can’t seem to focus on anything her teacher is saying.

Later on that afternoon, Mary stands outside her school just as Frank’s truck pulls up to take her to her college classes. As they begin to head to the university, Frank notices that she is just as quiet as she was earlier.

"Do you hate me? ...It's alright if you do... I'm curious,” she asks, not bothering to look at him.

"...I don't hate you,” he says, the hurt that comment made him feel present in his tone.

"That's good."

"But I don't like you right now."

"Fair enough."

The truck pulls into the parking lot of Mary's college and comes to a stop. She stays in the car as she watches Frank get out and walk around to the other side. As he goes open her car door, she pushes the locking latch down. These attempts prove futile though as Frank simply uses his keys to open the door.

"No fair."

"You can't keep doing this. If you don't tell me what's going on, I have no reason to let you stay home."

Frank crouches down low and looks her directly in the eyes.

"When I was your age, I didn't like school much either."

"...It's not that, I..."

"So...?

"...Did you get to stay home?"

"No. Mom mom didn't like the idea of my academics going to waste. I may not have been as smart as your mother. But that didn't mean I got forgotten."

"Did my mom like school?"

"She loved school. But even she didn't always like it."

"Can you tell me more about her."

"If you go in there and kill it like you always do. Deal?"

"Deal."

Frank extends his pinky which Mary links her finger with.

"Come on. You don't want to be late."

He helps Mary out of the car. He closes the door and starts walking. It takes a second for him to realize she's still standing by the car looking in the rear view mirror.

"Mary?"

She looks at him, teasing her hair away from her face.

"You look very pretty."

"...I look like a sailor."

Frank looks down at her white and blue striped dress.

"Well, people love sailors."

She looks at him and he smiles her glare off. Mary lets him fold her hair behind her ears.

"I'm kidding. You look beautiful like you always do."

"Is that what this is about?"

"No."

"Look, I'll see you when you get out. Once we get home, we’ll watch a movie and I'll tell you a story about your mom."

"Isn't today Friday?"

"Yeah. I can spend some time with you though."

"What about Roberta?"

"She'll just have to understand."

"...Okay."

"Good. I'll see you later."

Mary kisses Frank and starts to run off.

"You forgot your lunch,” he yells out at her.

Mary looks back and runs to Frank, grabbing her lunch from him.

"Bye Frank."

"Bye."

He watches Mary run up to the front doors of the university building and go inside. He stands by the truck for awhile before getting back in and driving off.

Mary goes to sit at a desk and buries her nose down in her textbook as the professor proceeds with his class. Her light blue eyes glance up every so often to copy some of the mathematical equations written on the whiteboard that he is currently explaining. She does her best not to look up at all or at least tries not to look for very long. All these actions come from one simple reason. When she does look across the room, she notices a cute boy writing in his notebook out of the corner of her eye.

In those rare moments, she allows herself to stare. She blinks less and keeps constant focus on the older guy. Mary shifts against her leaning arm to look over as the boy happens to look up for a second. She finds him to be very cute with his angled face and cleft chin sitting under a head of curly brown hair and adorned with bright green eyes. The mere sight of his face away from behind his book puts a small grin on Mary's face. She appears to be in a daze as fantasies of him fill her mind as she continues to look in his direction.

Mary happens to be far more into this trance than she realized. The professor at the head of the class begins to catch on after the young girl fails to respond to a question he poses to her. He calls her name three times before she realizes what is happening. She snaps her head upwards and looks at him.

"What?” she says annoyed.

"Are you still with us?"

"Where would I go?"

Her small yet biting comeback gets a few laughs from the other students in the class including the boy across the room.

"Very good. Then perhaps since if you are not too bored, you can finish the equations I have started here on the board."

Mary looks up to the whiteboard then to her notes and sees that she is several equations behind. Glancing back up towards the front of the room for another glimpse, she notices that the boy she has been staring at. He just so happens to be looking right at her with a surprisingly inviting grin. She smiles instinctively in response even as she attempts to hide it and quickly tries to bring her attention back to her studies before drawing any more attention to herself.

When the class finally ends, despite usually being one of the last ones to leave, Mary makes sure she is the first one out through the door. Moving quickly through the increasingly expanding crowd of teens and twenty-somethings, she maneuvers between them as she does her best not to get knocked over. Deep in thought, she begins to hear her name being called again and she tries not to think the voices are in her head. She imagines it is the professor calling her again like back in class but quickly realizes it is not him. The voice is younger and getting closer from what she can tell. At that moment, she knows who that voice belongs to. It is his. She has heard it before and knows that it is one of the only voices in her mind she could not ever get rid of.  
"Mary."

She hears it again and this time it sounds even closer. Ten feet, if that. She knows he is coming to talk to her but she dreads finding out why. Maybe it would be best if she never found out. Then she can just imagine he wants to ask her about anything she could possibly imagine. But what if it was something bad? Maybe he wants to ask her why she keeps gawking at him in class. Or maybe he just wants to make fun of her for getting outed by the professor. She keeps her head down and picks up her step. But his gait is much faster and he soon catches up to her in a mere few seconds.

"Mary."

She turns her head and begins to look up at the boy by her side.

"I was calling your name. Didn’t you notice?", he asks while catching his breath.

"...I didn't hear you...sorry,” she says nervously towards her feet.

"No, it's fine. I just wanted to talk." 

"...About what?"

"I don't know. Just thought we could start chatting and see where it went."

Mary, feeling so confused, flustered, and just far too nervous to hold a conversation with him in such a crowded place, immediately starts to walk off. The boy gives her chase and follows along behind her as he tries to get back at her side.

"I've seen you before. I never had a reason to say anything. You could say I was a bit scared..."

Hearing him admit that causes Mary to begin slowing down a bit though she keeps on walking.

"It's not like I'd know what to say to you...how do you start a conversation with a seven year old."

Mary stops by a doorway, puts a hand on her hip, and looks at him with an exasperated expression.

"...That was a joke. You are 7, 6...?" he says with a chuckle.

"I’m 7 and a half, thank you very much. Real funny," she replies in a deadpan voice.

"What?"

"Your joke."

"Oh."

"I'm Gavin Bellows."

"I'm Mary Adler."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mary Adler. I don't think I've really met a seven and a half year old before."

"It's likely you have, you just wouldn't know. Logically the math says..."

"How about we agree that I probably haven't met one here then?" he interjects.

"That would be okay."

"So, what class are you heading to next?"

Feeling overwhelmed, she struggles to gather her thoughts and finally remembers that she is still in the middle of her classes for the day. She finally replies saying, "...Mrs...Mr...Mrs. Lensfor's."

"Mr. Mosby for me. Um...maybe I'll see you later."

"...Okay."

As Gavin walks off, Mary stays there just leaning against the wall. Once he is gone far enough from view, she rushes into the girl's bathroom and locks herself in one of the stalls. While alone, she takes her time to get over the deep and heavy breaths forcing their way up from her chest and through her mouth. As she sits there attempting to catch her breath, she begins to think and is unable to figure out why her body is reacting this way. Why is it that she feels so hot? Why is there a burning feeling rising up from behind her ears and around her head as though she was on fire? And most importantly, why had her hand suddenly found itself between her legs and pressed firmly against her crotch?

As the school day comes to an end, Frank picks up Mary from out in front of the mathematics building. Though she hardly looked at him as she could not think of anything but Gavin. Keeping her attitude in mind, Frank decides against taking her back to her grade school to play with her friends on the playground and heads back to their house. When the two finally arrived at home, Mary immediately runs into her room and closes the door behind her. Perplexed though used to it by now, Frank decides to just go about the rest of his day before he begins making dinner.

Mary spends the next few hours in her room and on her computer. Without anyone looking over her shoulder and with the privacy that even a college cannot provide, Mary was able to freely use her laptop to search the internet. At first she started by searching for the symptoms she had been exhibiting. Ever since she left that bathroom stall, she thought she might be going through a heat stroke or starting menopause. She remained completely oblivious to the fact that she was far from sick. But she had no way of knowing what was actually going on in her tiny, immature body.

"Mary. You gonna help with dinner?", called Frank from outside her door.

He stood there impatiently waiting for an answer. The door starts to creak open as Mary looks up at him.

"What are we making?", she says.

"I don't know. You'll have to come find out."

Mary closes the door but, only seconds later, opens it back up and walks out. Seeing her decide to join in the cooking, Franks cracks a smile and follows her into the kitchen. Waiting for them there is their Roberta who is already beginning some of the prep work. The friendly, big-boned African-American woman looks at the two of them walking towards her. Mary runs toward her, beaming.

"Roberta!” yells Mary as she throws her arms around her.

"Hey sweet-face."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, if you won't come to me then you know damn well I'll come to you no matter what."

Mary hops right into work and now finds herself smiling and happy. When everything is finally set up, the group waits for the food to finish and then sits down to eat. During the meal time time seems to just fly by and soon enough the moon is out shining in the pitch black sky. Roberta leaves not soon after finishing her meal. Frank and Mary then spend the last bit of their evening watching a movie before they head off to sleep. Halfway through the film, Mary has fallen asleep against Frank's arm.

"Mary...Mary...,” he says quietly.

She doesn't answer though a silent, low snore can be heard emanating from her mouth. Frank scoops her up, carries her into her room, and lays her down.

"Goodnight Mary."

With her asleep and Roberta gone, Frank heads back to the living room and lies down on the couch. He picks up the remote and flips through a couple of channels. After about ten minutes of aimlessly channel surfing, he ends up on an action flick that he plans on watching until he's tired. But for now, he's wide awake and bored.

In her bedroom, Mary shifts her weight around from one side to the other and is inadvertently woken from her slumber. The small girl groans for a second before slowly and fully becoming entirely awake. Looking at the clock, she sees that she has been out cold for a little over an hour. She wipes her eyes a bit as she expresses her irritation at her early awakening. The sudden movement of the sheets causes Fred, who happened to be sleeping next to her in bed, to also become stirred out of his rest.

"Sorry Fred. Go back to sleep,” she says remorsefully.

Mary throws the sheets off of herself, hops out of bed, and quietly leaves her room. Feeling a full bladder, she heads to the bathroom and quickly relieves herself. Her feet begin to carry her back to her bed, but she notices that her mouth is quite parched. Almost instinctively, she changes direction and heads to the kitchen to get something to drink. Mary walks around through the dark and sees the light of the television bouncing off the walls. However, her senses being a little dampened by her tiredness, she doesn't hear anything. With nothing detouring her, Mary walks through the living room headed towards the kitchen. As she passes by, she looks over at Frank. At first she only really notices that he happens to still be on the couch and lying down. But then she realizes what it is that he’s doing. She doesn't understand what it is she is seeing at first but the longer she stares at him, the more her shaky vision locks in on his entire body. She can see that he is on his back and resting but, also, that he kind of isn’t at the same time. He has his right hand around his private parts and he is pumping his hand up and down the long length of it furiously. She had only seen his privates, or anyone’s for that matter, one time before when she accidently walked in on him in the bathroom. But here, in this unexpected moment, she was looking at it and noticed that it didn’t look the same somehow. Frank lets out a few low grunts, the pleasure building in his loins, and he jerks himself closer to ejaculating. Mary's feet have stopped moving, feeling as though they are bolted to the ground, and her eyes are looking over him closely. She doesn't want to say anything but is compelled to know what it is Frank is doing as the act he is performing is completely foreign to her.

"...Frank..." she mutters almost unconsciously.

Frank doesn't acknowledge her at first. It is not until the second time she calls out his name that he opens his eyes. But it isn’t her voice he hears in his head. Rather the sound of his name is processed by his aroused mind as a part of the erotic fantasy he has concocted of a woman eliciting him to please her more. But, suddenly, his eyelids begin to part and he finally notices the other person in the room.

"Mary...shit..." he says groggily and with a low voice.

"What are you doing?" she replies confused.

Frank puts his dick away sitting up and attempts to reach out and grab the remote. Mary has no understanding of what it was Frank was doing. If she had, had the awareness to look over at what Frank didn't want her to see, she would have noticed the muted porn film playing on the screen next to her. Thankfully Frank takes hold of the remote and manages to switch channels without her seeing what it is he was watching. He finally manages to speak again.

"What are you doing up?" he asks with a tone suggesting both frustration and concern.

"I was thirsty."

"Why didn't you call my name like you usually do?"

"I thought you were asleep too."

Though embarrassed by what has happened, Frank also knows she does not really understand what it was he was doing and tries to push his feelings of unease down so he can move past this unfortunate moment. Meanwhile, Mary realizes that she cannot think of anything else to do amid the ensuing uncomfortable silence other than look down directly at her bare feet. She then notices that her mangy, one-eyed feline companion has followed her out of her room as he was suddenly rubbing up against her leg. She finally brings herself to say something.

"Fred's thirsty too", she utters.

"...Come on…”, Franks replies with a sense of relief at the tension finally being ended.

The three of them head into the kitchen where Frank grabs a glass from inside a cabinet and a carton of milk from the refrigerator. He leans up against the door of the fridge as he watches Mary swallow nearly the entire cup he had poured. After stopping to take a breath, she turns her head and looks toward him.

"...So what were you doing?" she asks quietly.

Unable to think of what to say, Frank merely stares at her and says nothing. Mary looks at him with frustration, sighs, and continues drinking her milk. Noticing Frank’s glare and unsure as to why she seems to be in trouble, she takes her time finishing the milk so that she might have time to figure out what was going on.

"I just want to know..." she softly says.

"Drink,” he replies in a stern and terse tone.

“Frank…,” she pleads.

"Drink."

Knowing that her attempts to get an answer will prove futile, Mary finally finishes her drink. Frank takes the glass from her hand and places it in the sink. Hoping to end this surprise catastrophe, he walks her back to her room and puts her to bed. Another uncomfortable silence arises between them again.

"Why won't you tell me?" she finally interjects.

"Because you don't need to know,” he quickly responds

"But you looked like you were in pain."

"Well I wasn't. Now go to bed."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No...I...I'm not mad."

"You sound mad."

"Would you like me to be mad."

"I'd like you to tell me what you were doing."

Frank pulls the bedcovers over Mary and tucks them beneath her. He looks into her deep blue eyes and finds that cannot look away no matter how hard he tries. Seeming like a godsend, that damn cat of hers seems to interrupt at just the right moment when it leaps onto the bed beside her. Mary sees this as an opportunity to further her interrogation.

"Fred wants to know too."

"Fred's a cat. A one-eyed cat at that. Trust me, the...umm…the concept would go right over his head."

"I don't know why you're so upset about it...Why you seem so upset by just a simple question. "

"Listen, there are some things you just don't need to know about Mary."  
Mary begins to look increasingly more and more frustrated. She hates not understanding things and detests when the information she desires is kept from her. Not only was she an incredibly smart and precocious child but she was exceedingly curious too. Her annoyance begins to result in the raising of her voice to an almost full shout.

"Well, what if I just look it up tomorrow? What about that, huh?"

"Then I'll take your computer away from you."

"Ok, well, then I’ll look it up at school!"

"Good luck trying that after I tell your teachers and professors to keep a constant eye on you. Now this is enough Mary. Goodnight."

Frank turns to leave when Mary suddenly sits up in her bed. Her demeanor has changed to one sadness and desperation. She somehow makes her eyes look even bigger and more blue than they were before as she tilts her head down and stares up at him. Frank is powerless to resist her puppy-dog eyes.

"Frank…," she says in the cutest and sweetest voice she can muster, "Do you hate me?"

"...No. I could never hate you,” he replies, now fully defeated.

"You sound like you do."

He releases a long, drawn out sigh. Frank knows that he cannot leave her just laying there by herself with that being the last thing they said to each other. So walks over to her, sits down on the edge of her bed, and tucks in the covers around her one last time.

"Look, Mary...you see...there are...there are somethings you do in private, okay? Like when you go to the bathroom. You...ummm...you don't want me in there with you do you?"

"...What about Fred? We watch him pee and shit in the litter box"

"Hey! Don't say shit. You know that"

"That's what you said when you were talking with Roberta."

"Are you always listening when you shouldn't be."

"How am I supposed to know when I shouldn't be listening?"

"That's just something you have to learn. Nobody likes an eavesdropper"  
Frank places a hand on her cheek and lays a kiss down on her forehead as he attempts to put the discussion to rest for good.

"I'll see you in the morning,” he says as he props himself up off the bed.

"Okay."

"I love you Mary."

"I love you too."

"Goodnight."

Frank walks towards the bedroom door and closes it gently. Mary, unable to think of anything else to do and now stuck with a million thoughts and questions swirling in her head, strokes Fred's back until she can lull herself back to sleep.

"Goodnight Frank...Goodnight Fred," she quietly mutters to herself as she yawns.

Mary closes her eyes as she tries to empty her mind with the passing time. However, the one thing she could not stop herself from thinking about was what it truly was that Frank had been doing. And she knew that there was no way she was going to be able to let it go until she was able to figure it out. Even by next morning, it was still at the forefront of her mind. And so, as she sat at the kitchen table eating her bowl of cereal while Frank brushed her hair, she brought it up again.

"Frank."

"Yeah?"

"Is that what you do on Fridays? Is that what you do with your lady friends?"

"I thought we agreed there is some stuff you do in private."

"But if you are doing that with someone then it's not private, is it?"

"...Things can...ummm...stay private between two people."

"So it can be private with us."

"I don't think so."

"But I'm a girl. So it'll be the same."

"You’re not just a girl, Mary. You're also my niece."

"That only means that we're closer than the girls you usually bring over. I mean, there's always so many."

"Hey, there haven’t been that many."

"But you..."

"Are you really going to keep asking about this."

"I want to know."

"...I'm not totally opposed to the idea of telling you. I mean you're going to figure it out eventually. But its just that I doubt that you're ready. So you can just forget about it."

Frank drops the hairbrush on the table as Mary looks up at him with an expression of curiously draped across her face.

"Is it because I'm not smart enough?"

"No, of course that’s not it. You are plenty smart."

"Just like mom."

"Just like her. Maybe even smarter. And I don't want to bog your mind down with stuff that doesn't matter."

"That's bullshit."

"Hey! What did I say about that kind of language!"

"You say it."

"Yeah...when it is."

"And this is too."

"Look, nobody likes a smart-ass Mary."

"Ughhh...I know. I'm sorry."

Mary begins to pout and turns her head away from Frank. But as she does that, he extends his hand towards her, cups her cheek, and rubs a thumb over her smooth, delicate skin.

"...I'm sorry too. If you really want to know that badly, then I suppose I'll tell you."

Upon hearing Frank say this, Mary immediately turns around in her chair. The look of eagerness is impossible for her to hide as she waits with intense anticipation for what it is that he is about to say.

"You weren't supposed to see that. Last night...that was my fault. I mean...I wasn’t thinking clearly but...but...that's no excuse. You know...you...you usually stay over at Roberta's on Friday."

"So you can be alone with those girls, right?"

"Yeah, right...well...ummm...sometimes there aren't girls. Sometimes...even though you’re gone...I don't have a girl come over. Sometimes, I like to have some me-time."

"To be alone?"

"Yes, to be alone."

"And that's what you do with the girls?"

"No. Well...we do...we do other things..."

"What kind of other things?"

"Do you really want to know about this or not? I really need to know for sure. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you here, ok? I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable again trying to tell you about this stuff. So let me know now."

"I want to know."

"Alright then. When there are no girls...I...I sometimes do what you saw."

"Which was what exactly?"

"...It's called masturbating."

"Masturbating?"

"Yeah."

"Do all guys do it?"

"...I would think so."

"Can girls do it? Can...ummm...can I do it?"

"Well, yeah. Sure. You are a girl after all...so...I'd say it stands to reason that you could."

"Ok. So guys and girls do it and I could even do it too if I wanted. But why do you do it? What makes someone want to do that thing?"

"Well, when I'm with a girl...we...ummm...make each other feel good...and when they aren’t around to make me feel good...cause no one is available to come over or no one I know is in the mood...well...I do that thing...that thing you walked in on me doing...and it makes me feel good without them."

"So...masturbating...that thing you were doing...it feels good?"

"Yes."

“So why'd you look like that?"

Frank looks at Mary confused. He feels unsure as to what she is referring to. The conversation was throwing him through a loop and truly putting well outside of his comfort zone. He thinks to himself how no parenting book could possibly cover the proper procedure for how an uncle is supposed to answer questions like these. 

"Like what?"

"While you were doing it. Your face was all scrunched up. I dunno...it looked like it hurt."

"It didn't hurt. Sometimes when you do it...you…feel so…well...its difficult for me to explain."

"Do you want my computer? Do you need some explaining? Need an expert to explain it"

"You're being a..."

"Sorry. Its just...I don’t get it...can't you just say it?"

"Jesus, I'm trying my best here, Mary. I’m not sure how to explain it. It's...just...something you do."

"To feel good."

"Yeah, in a nutshell. Some people do it when they feel alone. Or...when they get...sometimes people can get...ummm...worked up, I guess."

"Worked up? So like when you work on the boats?"

"No. That's a different kind of worked up. You’re thinking like tired or exhausted...what I'm talking about you probably don't know yet. But its a feeling you get usually when you like someone...and I mean like someone. So not Fred or Roberta or even your friends."

"How do I know when I like someone?"

"Its just something that people known when they know. Some people freeze up, others feel really hot and get all sweaty, and some even lose their ability to speak. For some, its all of the above."

"Okaaayyy...but what do you do?"

"When it happens to me? Oh...I...ummm...I can’t speak...can’t find the words."

"Then maybe you should bring Fred so he can help you find them."

This childlike, silly, little joke causes Frank to laugh which, in turn, makes Mary smile as she sees his mood has changed. He places his hand underneath her chin, tilts her head back, and kisses her on her forehead.

"Soooo...did that do it for you? You satisfied?"

Mary thinks for a second. She knows that she doesn’t fully understand the full extent to what it was Frank was doing. She knows that there are more questions to be asked now but cannot think of them. But, despite all of this, she also realizes that it would not be wise to push her luck here and just leave it at that for now. She nods at him and Frank releases a sigh of relief.

"Good. Thank you. You ready for school? Ready to hop in the truck?"

Mary offers him another tacit nod which causes Frank to smile. He begins to look around the room for his keys and wallet as he heads for the door.

"Even better. Let's finish up,” he says.

Mary stares down at her plate for a moment and rolls around the remaining food as she contemplates asking Frank another question. This one, however, she feels would be well within his ability to answer.

"Can we go to the park after school?" she asks.

"Sure."

Mary's smile increases to the point where she appears to be beaming. She goes to pat Fred’s furry little head, gives it a little scratch, the remainder of her meal. 

Later on that day, after the school day has concluded, Frank takes Mary by the playground. There she spends over two hours playing around with kids from her elementary school. As he watches her run about playing with children her own age, Frank’s thoughts about the previous night’s events and the conversation they had that morning seemed to become distant memories. Looking at her, he even felt as though Mary seemed to have forgotten all about it herself. 

Over the next few days, it seemed as though things had gone back to normal. That entire time Mary never once brought up those uncomfortable events or the ensuing conversations. That was until Sunday when Mary began stirring up trouble yet again, though this time their roles were reversed.

After coming back that afternoon from another round of fun at the playground, Mary headed straight to her bedroom. For over three hours, Frank heard nary a peep from her. He wondered to himself as to whether she had possibly fallen asleep and taken a nap. That seemed plausible as she had been playing very vigorously down at the playground. But he knew if she slept for too long then she would have trouble falling asleep later that night. And, as tomorrow was Monday, she had school to get fully rested and prepared for. 

So Frank heads to Mary’s bedroom to wake her up. As he approaches, he notices that her door is sitting cracked with almost a foot of space between it and the frame. He looks inside ready to call out her name but instead is surprised to see she is already awake. She is standing beside the bed, her jeans and panties down around her thighs, with her head tilted downward towards her crotch. She is slamming her balled-up fist against an imaginary cock that is not there and hits her clit in the process. Seeing Frank, Fred meows in his direction which causes Mary to notice his presence. She glares at him and projects a look of both anger and surprise.

"I...I didn't know you were…,” he utters while struggling to find the words.

"Masturbating is bullshit!" she yells at him angrily in response.

Mary's outburst makes Frank linger but from behind the door. Given her current state of undress, he cannot bring himself to actually enter into her room.

"Mary! What did I tell you about using those words?"

"It's your fault! It is bullshit! And your bullshit too!"

He steps into the room and sees her pouting face is actually quite more than that in that she is really and truly visibly mad. Her nostrils are flared and her upper lip is curled while her bottom lip quivers.

"Mary! That's enough!" Franks shouts in a commanding tone.

"Shut up! Get out! I hate you!" she shouts back at him almost on the verge of tears.

Mary pushes on the door but finds that is unable to make it budge even an inch as Frank is pressing against it from the other side. Frank sighs and tries to push the door further inward without knocking Mary over in the process.

"You're...you’re an asshole. I hate you. You lie...bullshit."

Hearing her continue to rattle off more and more swear words, Frank finally wedges himself into the room. He walks right up towards Mary with nary an inch standing between them. Mary looks up towards him and issues him the most withering glare.

"I warned you, Mary. I told you what would happen if you swore in this house."

"I swore...and...and...I'll swear again! Get the fuck out!"

This comment draws the line with Frank. He cannot tolerate this attitude and behavior from Mary without issuing some sort of punishment. Frank quickly wraps his arms around the dainty blonde and carries her towards her bed under one of his arms.

"Put me down!" she yells while flailing her legs about and hitting him with her fists.

"You know what's coming," Frank replies calmly.

"No!" she shouts back worried and in a panic.

Frank sits down on the bed while pushing Fred to the floor. He easily tosses Mary's almost ragdoll-esque light body over his lap. She squirms and kicks her legs in an attempt to escape from his grasp. Frank manages to grasp the pants of the wiggling child and pull them down to her ankles. He is about to begin her spanking when it occurs to them that this punishment calls for special measures. He reaches for her white panties covered in pink polka-dots and pulls them down to her ankles as well. With her soft, lily-white, supple butt cheeks now exposed, Frank puts his hand under Mary’s chin and tilts her face towards him.

"You know what I'm going to do. I told you to stop,” he says coldly and with little emotion.  
"Bullshit!"

It is the utterance of this final curse word that causes Frank to spring into action. He brings his large, muscular hand up into the air and then sends it back crashing down upon her bare ass. She yelps and screams from the first impact. From there her words are cries, shrill and sad but she's still mad and has less concern for the consequences than normal.

"Stop it,” she squeaks out while trying to hold back and suppress her tears.

"You know what happens,” he replies tacitly in return.

A second loud, thunderous slap comes down upon her as his large hand engulfs both of her small buttocks. Her body jolts upward upon the contact but that does not cause her to cease from punching Frank and kicking him with her with her thin, lithe legs.

"Let me go! Let me go Frank!"

"Not until you learn your lesson. I warned you and, despite everything I said, you did it anyway."

Whack! Whack! Whack! By the time he deals out one final slap upon her now tender bottom, Mary's face is bright red and a fitting match for her formerly pale backside now glowing from the rather aggressive spanking. Her face is also damp as well with tears now trailing down her cheeks and falling from her chin.

"No! Stop it!" she cries out.

"I told you not to swear and you swore. So what are you not going to do?" he says.

"...Jerk…,” she whispers under her breath.

This insult does not go unnoticed by Frank and manages to earn her two more spanks. After these latest two twacks upon her rear end, she is no longer resisting. She seems to be almost resigned to her fate now as she merely lays there taking it, balling her eyes out behind whimpers and sobs.

"I'm not joking Mary. We can do this all night and you can go to school in the morning like this. Is that what you want?”

Mary is silent and attempts to say nothing. The only sound in the room is her labored breathing peppered in with light, crying moans and a few hiccups.

“So, tell me, what are you not going to do?" Frank asks.

"Swear."

"That's right. And why not?"

"...Because I'll get a whooping."

"And you don't like getting them do you?"

"...No..."

"And I don't like giving them to you."

"Yes, you do."

"No, trust me, I don't."

Frank lifts Mary up and sees how her sobbing has caused her to appear quite disheveled. It breaks his heart to see her crying like she is. She tries to turn away not wanting to look at him but he only pulls her closer to him. His hands, formerly intimidating and threatening weapons, are now used to calm the child as he wipes away her tears.

"I know it hurts. That's the point. This way you'll learn not to do it again. But, Mary, I hope you will hear me here. It is because it hurts you that I truly hate doing it."

"Then why do you do it anyway?"

"Because you won't learn if I don't. I hated getting whoopings too. I’d get them all the time. Did you know that? But, guess what, you're lucky. I got mine with an old yard stick."

"You're lying…”

"In what way?"

"...Your...your hands are bigger than a yard stick."

“Trust me, Mary. Wood will beat hands every time. A hand is forgiving. And, well, wood isn't."

He wraps himself around her and holds her tight against his body as she cries into his shoulder. Tears begin to well up in his eyes as well at the sight of her like this and they slowly drip from his face onto the top of her head. 

"It's okay, Mary. I don’t mind if you hate me now. I’d get it if you did. But you need rules. I can’t just let you go around doing or saying whatever you want."  
The two stay silent for awhile as neither of them can think of much else to say. Frank merely holds Mary close against him as he feels her little heart pounding upon his side.

"...We're running low on food. Not sure we have anything here I can make for dinner. What do you think about ordering out? What do you think you’d want?"

"Umm...Chinese?"

"Okay, Chinese it is."

Frank goes to reach down towards her ankles and pull up her pants but she stops him. He looks at her rather confused by this.

"No. Don’t. It still hurts."

"...Oh...Okay."

He plants kisses upon her cheek and forehead and wipes away a new batch of tears. But now, with her eyes finally clear again, she can see he has been crying along with her this whole time. She takes her long sleeve and wipes away his tears as well.

"You can stay here and keep lying down. I'll call you when the food gets here."

Mary nods while still sniveling her nose and continuing to dry her face. Frank walks over to the door and begins to leave. He manages to nearly close the door but as he does Fred speeds right past him and back into the room. Mary goes to pick him up but when she bends down to get him she finds it is too painful. Frank notices this and walks toward her, picks up Fred, and places him on the bed. He looks at Mary who seems to be staring off into the distance. He places a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you hate me?" he asks.

"...Can I think about it?" she replies with the hugest pout Frank had ever seen.

"Yeah. You can think about it," he responds quietly.

He goes to exit the room and closes the door behind him as he leaves. Some time later, their dinner arrives and they sit on the couch which is now the only place that Mary can sit relatively comfy. The pair go on to eat their meal in almost complete silence. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. The both of them remain quiet through the end of the meal as they are unsure of what to say to one another. This sort of scene is familiar to Frank as things always seem to play out this way every time after he spanks her. If they were not back to normal by that night then they almost certainly would be by the next morning once they both slept on it. This time was no different either. After their supper concludes, Frank puts Mary to bed and tucks her in. Though, unfortunately for him, it is at this point that she finds she is ready to talk to him again.

"Goodnight Mary."

As Frank pats her right on her little tummy, Mary pulls her arms out from beneath the covers. She grasps onto the sleeve of Frank’s shirt and pulls him closer to her.

"...Frank."

"What's up?"

"...I don't hate you."

"I'm glad."

Mary looks away bashfully as she finds she is unable to ask Frank what she really wants him to do. Frank just stands there looking at her and gives her the time she needs to get out whatever it is she wanted to say.

"...Can you sleep with me...umm...until I fall asleep?"

Frank nods his head and climbs onto the bed with her. He places one arm beneath her neck and brings her whole body close to him. Mary enjoys the warmth of his large, masculine body as she snuggles beside him.

"How are you feeling?" he inquires.

"My butt still hurts,” she says while wiggling her lower half in a show of real discomfort.

"I didn't want to hit you that hard," Frank replies as he now finds himself feeling quite guilty.

"I know, Frank.”

Frank turns his head and looks up toward the ceiling. He is not sure how to ask Mary this next question that seems to be rolling around in his head nor is he entirely confident that he should even bring up the subject at all.

“Mary...umm...hey...can I ask you something, now?"

"Yeah, sure. What?"

"You kept saying it was my fault...earlier today...what were you talking about?"

"You lied to me."

"What do you mean? What is it you think I lied about?"

"Masturbating. You lied to me about masturbating, Frank."

"Is that what...I don't...you mean you..."

"You say doing it made you feel good. But you lied. I was doing it. I was in here doing it for a long time. But it didn't feel good at all. It just made the area under my stomach hurt."

"Oh, Mary. You're right. That is my fault. You saw me doing that and you tried to do it too."

Frank turns to Mary on his side as she turns to him to lay on her’s in an attempt to keep the pressure off her sore ass. The two were so close to each other that they could feel the other’s breath hit their face.

"Mary, you remember how I've told you about boys and girls, right? About how they are different?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, good. What I didn’t tell you though is that boys and girls...well...they play with themselves differently."

"They don't play any differently at the playground. What do you mean?"

"...No...ummm...Not play, play. I mean masturbate. You see, boys do it the way you saw me doing it. But...ummm...girls...they masturbate differently than us."

"How? How is it different, Frank? How do girls masturbate."

"Mary I can't."

Frank begins to move his body a little further away from Mary to give himself a little distance from her. This is getting too complicated for him. He does not know what to say to his innocent little niece laying beside him and he is not sure that he can trust himself to make the right decision here. Meanwhile, Mary looks at Frank with the biggest and most manipulative eyes she can muster and with a massive pouty expression on her face. Frank has no chance here to put up any resistance against her.

"Please. You can show me."

"No, Mary. I don't think I can. It isn’t right. An uncle shouldn’t see his niece like that. Besides, I thought your butt hurt. You can’t lie on your back and do that if your butt hurts."

"Then...umm...why don’t you show me how you do it? And then you can show me how girls do it another time. Okay?"

"Mary please. I can’t..."

"Frank...please...we're in private...we are at home. And...and...you never did it all the way. I came in and ruined it for you."

"Hey. Don’t worry about it. That's okay. You didn’t ruin anything."

"No, it's not okay. You were trying to make yourself feel good and I just barged in and stopped you."

"Look, Mary. Doing that right now isn't going to make up for it. Okay?"

"Why not?"

"Because it wouldn't."

"Why can’t you just do it now? Doesn't it still feel good? Don’t you like to feel good?"

"Yes, but..."

"So do it. I won't tell. I promise. I won’t tell anybody. Not Roberta. Not Ms. Stevenson. Nobody. I just want to know, Frank."

"Hey, Mary, look. You know what they say, right? Curiosity killed the cat."

"What? What does that have to do with anything? Aren’t going to kill Fred, are you?"

"No...no...I'm not going to kill Fred...it was just a saying...I...look Fred'll probably outlive the both of us out of spite...but Mary of all the things you could ask for..."

"Because I want to see. I want to learn. Can't you just show me? Please, Frank.”

Frank stares at her, looks her right in the eyes, and fully grasps just how much she wants to see this. He knows how important it is to her even if she doesn't really understand the gravity of this act or just how many taboos they would be breaking if he went along with this. But it is this innocence of her’s and the non-sexual association she has with this form of self-pleasure that gives him a bit of reassurance. For her it wasn't sexual at all. She honestly just wanted to know what it was all about. And despite her increasingly large IQ, all she really knew was that it felt good and was probably healthy. And Frank realized that Mary was getting older. So sooner or later she would come to him with these questions, start asking others, or god forbid, look something up on the internet and get scarred for life. 

He swallows a lump in his throat and makes his decision. This wasn’t really that bad. He was just giving Mary another lesson. He had taught her many things over the years. Some might find this weird or inappropriate but, he kept telling himself, he was really just doing the responsible thing. Mary watches him as he props himself up into a sitting position, begins to unbutton his pants, and hooks his thumbs under the waistband. He proceeds to pull them down a bit, right along with his boxers as well. Now freed from its cloth prison, his limp cock just flops out over his stomach.

"It's smaller than before," Mary observes

"Well...they...ummm...they tend to do that. Do you remember what I said before about getting all worked up?"

Mary takes a second to think about it and recalls what Frank had told her previously. As the memories suddenly come flooding back to her, she looks at him and nods.

"Well, Mary. When guys get worked up, it gets bigger."

"Does it happen with boys too? Like boys younger than you?"

"Yes."

Frank grabs his sleeping cock and begins to slowly stroke it. Mary occasionally looks back and forth from Frank's face down to his right hand currently gripping his thick, veiny dick. A minute or so after starting to touch himself, Frank's penis begins to swell. His length grows and starts to stiffen in his hand as the act of jerking off increases both his pleasure and arousal. WIth his erection now at full mast, he can allow himself to get a bit rougher with his technique. His grip tightens and he starts pumping faster. Mary just lays there and stares as she unknowingly gets turned on more and more by seeing Frank jerk off. But even now, with all of this going on right in front of her, she still did not know why she was feeling so hot as she watched him and why she was simply feeling so good. Maybe she felt the same way now as she did when she thought about the boy from school. No. That was not right. She did love Frank. She loved him more than almost anything in the world. But he did not give her the same sort of feelings that she had when she was near that boy. But now, while watching Frank masturbate, she actually does feel herself feeling the same she had before. She did not really want to feel this way about Frank and did not know why it bugged her that she did however she decided to let this feeling of confusion pass.

Frank presses his head backwards as he continues moving his hand while it gets him right where he needs to be. Unconsciously realizing just how into it she was becoming, Mary leans in towards him a bit closer. She feels the same heat growing down there between her legs. She was starting to feel good and, though her ass was still sore from earlier, she wanted to see if it felt as good for girls as it clearly was feeling for Frank. 

Mary lowers her hands sliding them down her stomach and on towards her still completely bare legs. From the waist down, she was just completely and entirely naked. Putting on underwear or even some loose fitting pajamas would have irritated her pained flesh. Sleeping half-naked and on her side was the only way she would be able to sleep tonight. Like she did before, Mary was becoming a little wet from watching Frank do this. Though now she could actually feel it with her own hand. This was not like the sweating she frequently did at the playground, so she began to wonder why she was wet down there. Was it because she was watching Frank? 

A few of her finger tips began to reach her small folds and she really started to feel something. Unlike that horrible experience earlier when she tried masturbating like Frank, she was really feeling something now. She rubbed her fingers over her tiny, childish cunt and began to feel good. A million thoughts bounced about her mind. This has to be the way girls did it, right? It just has to be. 

But before Mary could continue to explore this new sensation, she looked over at Frank. His facial expressions were telling an entire story and she realized it was the same one as when she saw him on the couch. Frank was getting closer and closer to cumming. He continued to keep jerking his cock but knew he had less than a minute now. And then it happened. He finally came. His dick throbbed in his hand and, as he gave it a few more long, hard strokes, a week's worth of his jizz began to erupt. Backed up for so long now, he had more than enough to put on a nice show for Mary. As she saw it all just suddenly come out of him, seemingly out of nowhere, Mary jerked herself backward. Frank’s cum kept firing off so many times and repeatedly landed about his chest and stomach. Honestly, he had not really considered that, if he started jerking off, all this would happen when he finished.

"Did you break it?" Mary asked in astonishment and concern.

"...No...I finished...I just...I just...I came,” Frank pants in reply through short gasps.

"What is all of that stuff?"

"...That's what comes out...when...when a boy finishes."

"And you guys just let it out all over yourselves?"

"...No...ummm...It depends really."

"On what?"

"Well...I...I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t really plan this. Usually when a boy does this, he knows where he's going to shoot it. Like, maybe, into a tissue or a sock or maybe even the toilet."

"What do they do if they are doing it with a girl there?"

"Oh… well… ummm… sometimes the girl will let you shoot it inside of them while you're… and… ummm… when you… she will… sometimes she lets you put it in her mouth and she'll kind of drink it."

"Really? Do you let them do that to you?"

"Hey, Mary… you know what… I think it's time for you to go to bed."

Frank throws his legs over the side of the bed. He looks down at his shirt and notices that it is completely covered in thick gobs of his semen. He goes to grab for his pants and boxer that are still bunched up around his ankles.

"I've got to clean this shirt. Goodnight, Mary."

Frank grasps his semi-erect cock, still dripping with cum, and tucks it into his pants. He rises from the bed without another word while Mary lies there and thinks over everything she just witnessed. 

She had so many questions. And the more she thought about it, the more questions she seemed to pop into her mind. Why did that white stuff come out? Why was there so much of it? It was then she realized that some of this goopy liquid was still strewn about her sheet adjacent to her face. Did Frank actually cum past his body and land next to his head without noticing. Moving beyond that thought she lifted her hand and wipes it off with her finger. The semen sticks to the tip of her index finger and she notices that it does not move like water. She presses her thumb against it and when she pulls them apart the strand of cum stretches a good two inches before falling apart. It both amazed and perplexed her and only managed to increase her curiosity. She knew she had to find out more. There was no question about that. She had to see Frank do it again. Or at the very least see someone, anyone really, do it again. But she was too tired at the moment to do much more about it now. Mary wipes the semen on the edge of her bed and starts to fall asleep. The smell of Frank's load lingers in the air and continued to manipulate her thoughts while she falls into a deep slumber.


End file.
